Tis the Season for Drinking
by Xerizzelles
Summary: HIATUS Finding the holidays increasingly stressful this year, Rick and Lisa cope with their loneliness in very different ways, but will a strange incident bring the two empty people together for the holidays, or only add to the confusion of love?
1. Walking in Circles

A/N: I wrote this story after re-watching the episode where Rick and Minmei spend Christmas together because I thought Lisa needed some attention instead of that spoiled attention whore Minmei. Kind of an AU story, so just go along with it...

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It was a cold night for a walk about town. The few golden leaves of the oak trees were ready to fall with the others, as the threat of an ice storm approached the scene. The decaying oak leaves crunched beneath his footsteps as Rick counted the number of sidewalk cracks he overstepped, along with the garland decorated streetlamps, in a poor attempt to distract himself from his thoughts. Despite his efforts to ignore a certain someone, _she_ always found a way into his very eager mind. And it was only getting worse.

With the holidays approaching, Rick found that his loneliness was as dominate as ever without his big brother. He remembered how every Christmas, Rick and Roy would chop down a pine tree themselves, as Roy always said, "it takes a real man to chop down his own Christmas tree," and then, they would spend the next few hours hauling a huge tree to Roy's house, lassoing colored lights and throwing bright ornaments about it. But what Rick loved more than anything, was when Roy gathered all his toy planes and stuck them onto the tree, placing a model of his own plane on the top with a small Lego version of Rick inside the cockpit.

This tradition made Rick think of his father, who even with his mother's disapproval, would insist on am aero-circus themed Christmas tree every year. Nothing in the world could compare to those wonderful holiday memories he had with his family. Sadly, with the Earth nearly destroyed, and his big brother gone, he was to spend Christmas alone, again.

He _did_ have others who would be more than delighted to have Rick share in their holiday fun: Claudia was always a very loving and amusing person to be around when she and Roy were together; however, his death seemed to change her once cheery mood. Rick certainly considered her as an older sister, and knew spending time with her during this trying time would be what Roy wanted, but Rick had a feeling she would be staying with her brother's family. Maybe being with her new nephew would relieve her of some emotional pain—Rick could only hope.

And there was always the Sterlings. Max had offered Rick to their Christmas Eve dinner, but he declined, not only because Miriya had planned to cook a ham, but because he knew being a part of their family dinner would remind him of his utter loneliness.

Asking Minmei to dinner was out of the question due to her busy movie star schedule. Currently, she would be out of town, shooting the sequel to her kung fu/ horrid romance film with that no-good drunk bastard Kyle. Ugh, how Rick hated Kyle, but not as much as he hated the fact that Minmei put up with him when she deserved so much better.

So, of course, this last thought led him to the object of his trouble. He knew thinking of _her_ would continue to confuse him further; however, it was only a matter of time before she crept back into his head, tugging at his sanity and his heart. Should he ask her to spend the dreadful holidays with him, maybe make a dinner and just watch Christmas movies so he can feel like his holidays weren't a complete failure? But Rick didn't even decorate his home, or much less know how to make a decent meal. And would she even accept his pathetic invitation? He was sure even his work-a-holic captain had Christmas traditions of her own, and if so, Rick was truly the only person left alone for the holidays.

A cool breeze whispered through the trees, ruffling Rick's already disheveled hair. He desperately tries to stuff his hands into his pockets, regretting not bringing his jacket on his walk. Looking up from the sidewalk, he glanced around the street, finding himself in front of a house, unable to ignore the motionless figure lying on the porch.

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_If you want more, please review so I know how you like it so far!  
_

Thanks for reading! =)

Alicia Strange


	2. Straight Jacket Feeling

A/N: Continuation of Part 1, but Lisa's story of the night...

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"That's enough for you tonight, Honey," spoke the barely legal bartender to the sloppy blonde at the sitting at the bar.

"Just one more, I promise," she managed to murmur, her voice muffled by her arms crossed and head down on the bar counter.

"No ma'am, I'm sorry. You're already wasted. It's Christmas time, why aren't you spending time with your family?" He blurted out of poor-acclaimed authority and pity as he noted her lack of movement and twelve empty wine glasses in front of her.

"Oh buddy, do you really think I'd be here at this shitty bar if I had a family to be with?" Her words more slurred than yelled as she lifted her face to meet his, trying to challenge him while attempting to keep her balance on the stool. She looked around and saw the three men at the bar all staring in her direction—all drunk and just as lonely as her, yet she felt as the most abandoned. Turning back the young bartender, she reached for her purse and slammed some cash on the counter, then stumbled of her stool and to the door, receiving dirty looks from those around her. Feeling the stinging eyes of the drunkies, she turned around and smirked, "Merry Chirstmas!" and left.

Angered by the idiot bartender, but mostly by herself, she began to cry, not out of sadness, but self-pity. Lisa never used to be like this at Christmas. Sure Christmas without her mother was tough, but her father had always tried to make the holidays special by decorating the tree and baking gingerbread cookies with her, but as the years after her mother's death dragged on, her father began to lose sight of the importance of the holidays—spending time with his only daughter.

Of course Lisa hadn't suffered completely; she had Karl who showed her hot to ice skate on the frozen pond, how to make a snow angel after a snowstorm, and how to stay warm when her father was away at work on those cold December nights. She remembered that the Christmas before Karl died was the last truly joyful Christmas she ever had.

Recalling her first love was too much for a drunken Lisa, especially when she thought of spending the holidays alone, again. Sure Claudia never let Lisa spend that day moping about her home, always taking her to The Grant's Christmas Dinner, but this year, Claudia seemed more reserved, and didn't push Lisa into going with her, only saying, "Get some rest Missy, so maybe you won't become Captain Grouchy." At the time, they both laughed, yet while walking (or rather stumbling) down the street, Lisa didn't think it was that funny

Her tear drenched face, added with her loose curls, shouted "pathetic mess" as she continued down the street, anxiously awaiting her warm bed and some aspirin. On the bright side, the pain tomorrow would drown out the complete loneliness, a harsh reality that was too much for her to bear. And maybe she'd forget about _him_ for once.

Lately, just walking down the street was hard because every couple that would pass by would remind Lisa of how she would never be with _him_. Obviously, she had failed to reveal her feelings to him, but couldn't that hot-headed little pilot detect even the slightest bit of connection between them? As the bridge captain of the SDF1, Lisa was sure her duty to her ship and captain was her #1 priority, however, her strange attraction for him was becoming increasingly complicated, as she desired to be around him, which meant continued fighting on the open channel just to hear his voice and see his face, or dine at her least favorite Chinese restaurant in hopes of bumping into him at lunchtime. No matter how close the two became as friends, Lisa knew he'd never see her as anything more than his superior officer, because of that stupid, annoying, young singing star. How could Lisa ever compare to Miss Macross?

Approaching her house, Lisa ignored her complete desperateness and dug in her purse for her house keys. Realizing they weren't in her purse, she reached for her spare key above the door frame. Losing balance in her attempt to grab the key, she held onto the doorknob for support, however, her foot slid on the floor mat, and she fell, hitting her forehead on the doorknob, and landing on the floor. The last thing she remembered was hearing the wind blow through the trees.

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_Please Review!_

Thanks again=)

Alicia Strange


	3. Familiar Stranger

**A/N:** Sorry I have neglected my readers for so long! I have been writing for this story now and again, but I'm so picky with how I want to end it that I have yet to publish more chapters. Plus, college is a royal bitch that takes up any free time that I do possess.

Anywho, here, my beloved fans is another chapter to hold you over for a while while I make time for more chapters.

Hope you likey.

Alicia Strange

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**Chapter 3: Familiar Stranger**

_I wonder if that person is okay… _Rick thought as he stared at the motionless figure lying on the porch of the house across the dead street. The wind whistled again through the trees, provoking Rick's curiosity as he cautiously staggered toward the house. When he reached the steps, he saw that the porch light casted a shadow on the figure, relieving a slender figure of a woman with light brown hair.

The sight of the unconscious woman made Rick's heart beat faster, and his urgency in helping her became unwavering. He hated to see women in such situations, and judging by the strong scent of alcohol coming from the woman's clothing and hair, he assumed she was drunk. What kind of woman allowed herself to drink so much and stagger home without the help of a loyal girlfriend or brother? Rick had never had a sister, but if he had, she definitely could depend on him for such favors, after all, "that's what a man is supposed to do", as Roy used to say.

He felt the woman's warm neck, finding a strong pulse. Relieved, he spotted a brown purse next to the woman and inspected the bag for keys. No luck. Determined to help the woman inside, for fear of her well-being, he searched around the porch, under the mat, and in the plant pot for a spare key. Again, no luck. He contemplated taking the woman to his own home, but knew that would be inappropriate, as the police station or hospital would be more logical.

With one more look to the passed-out woman, Rick worked up another moment of perseverance and remembered that he hid his own spare above his door frame, making it harder for others to find. Sending out a silent prayer, Rick reached up and patted around for a key, his fingers finding the cool metal object he so desired. He slipped the key in the keyhole and turned the knob with ease. The door opened to a dark living room, the silhouette of a sofa to his left.

Turning around and knelling toward the woman, he tried once more to wake her, but failed, deciding that carrying her in would be a better idea. He reached under her stomach with his arms and scooped her up, but not without struggle, and tried to gather her legs under one arm while supporting her back with the other. Her head rolled to the side, but her wild hair covered her face, with Rick's arms too full to push the hair away from her countenance. He staggered toward the door, carrying her through the doorframe, accidently banging her head on the wall. She groaned out in pain and stirred only slightly, causing Rick to lose his balance and nearly drop her on the floor, however, he managed to (not so nicely) drop her on the sofa.

Rick took a step back, and tried to catch his breath a moment, cursing at himself for not turning on the light before bringing her inside. He patted around the wall and found a switch that illuminated the room, and the woman's face, one that Rick had seen before.

Lisa Hayes—the cold-hearted Captain Lisa Hayes of the SDF-1—was passed out on the tan couch, her clothing dirty and disheveled from her acquaintance with the front porch, while her caramel hair draped over her shoulders in an untamed and luscious way…_luscious?_ Rick gasped out loud, shocked at the sight of the woman he only minutes before had cursed out of his mind, and the strange thoughts of her figure lying on his own couch, or his bed—_wait a minute, Hunter. Focus._

He shook those thoughts out of his mind and paced back and forth, deciding how to handle the situation. He knew she would be just as pleased as he to find him in her home. She'd probably act as if he tried to take advantage of her if he remained here, and after a few moments of confusion, he decided that she really needed to just sleep it off, and maybe she'd think she actually made it to the couch on her own.

Convinced, he made a move for the door, but as soon as he reached to turn off the light, he heard a groan and cough. It was as if all time stood still and there was no other sound but the murmur of her rough and pained voice. Then, when he thought she might remain quiet, he heard a very subtle and confused "Ri…Rick?" escape her closed throat. His head whipped back so fast that he pulled a muscle, and cursed too loud in pain. In doing so, he made eye contact with a very tired and groggy Lisa, her irritated green eyes sparkling in the light. _Red from crying earlier_, he thought.

She stared in awe at him, and then blushed suddenly, pulling her coat over herself to somehow fix her messy appearance, making indistinguishable noises as she sat up too fast. Her head hurt and her vision whirled as she groaned again, and found herself cursing out loud. "Fuck. My head…Ugh," she managed then rubbed her eyes, no doubt smearing her already screwed up make up on her sweaty face. She faintly heard Rick say something to her and suddenly a cool towel covered her forehead.

Her eyes shot open and she found herself staring blankly into the deep-sea blue eyes of Rick Hunter. _Rick Hunter!_ That cocky, no good, childish pilot who had been the cause of her inner turmoil and despair for the past few weeks. She gasped hoarsely and attempted to move away from him, throwing her hands to make contact with his face. A loud slap rang through the quiet room and she heard him cuss and call her name in anger.

"Lisa! What in the wo…what was that for?" he growled, his hand rubbing his reddened cheek. He looked down at his assailant and was rewarded with the same look of hatred (except even more frightening in the glow of the night) from the Ice Queen herself that he received so many times before. Thinking of that look used to give him nightmares, but lately, it provoked an urge Rick had not satisfied in nearly a year. That thought alone was enough to scare Rick out of his boots.

"What do you think, Hunter? Why are you in my living room, ya creep?" She yelled back, the heat in her face making her head spin. She looked up at him, noting his casual clothing and his freaked out expression. The last thing she remembered was trying to get the key from her doorframe, and then—nothing. Did she make it inside by herself? Anxious to find out what happened, she ignored his annoying responses of why he was not a creep.

"Creep? _Creep?_ I'm not the one who was _passed out drunk_ on her front porch, Lisa. If I didn't see you lying on your porch, a real creep could have had his way with you! You should be thanking me for helping you inside, Hayes," he spat angrily at his superior officer who he had very little respect for at the moment.

"How dare you say—wait, you _carried me inside_?" her tone shifting from anger to shock in an instant. Rick had found her unconscious and carried her inside her home. He made sure she was okay and not passed out in the cold, so vulnerable. Maybe he did—no, he only cared for his precious Minmei, not his old superior officer. Lisa cringed at his accusing words, unable to fight off the affect they had on her already damaged heart. She tried to avert her eyes anywhere but to his, yet when he spoke, she found herself seeking salvation in their depths.

"Yes, Lisa. You were passed out! What kind of man would I be to leave you like that? What were you doing drunk like that anyway?" he asked, moving back toward the door to fetch her purse and close the door. He wanted to put a few feet between them, for some reason, yet when he saw how sad and sick she looked, he wanted to hold her close and comfort her, an act he thought strange and foreign.

Lisa bit her lip and looked down at her carpet, trying to focus on the red wine stain that would not come out even after five attempts to wash it. She would not admit that her infatuation of him, combined with her lack of family and love had driven her to complete desperation and her need for a drink. Alcohol had always been the solution to a hard problem she had to face after Karl's death. When the pain was too much to bear, she found that the strong pungent taste numbed her agony, and with her self-loathing and anxiety these days, liquor had been her new and only love.

"I… I'm not an alcoholic," she replied, hoping that Rick wouldn't judge her the way anyone else would, and received only a smirk and curt reply of "Oh really?" from Rick. She shook her head defenselessly, then, focused on the wet towel that was still miraculously stuck to her forehead. "Honest. I don't crave alcohol like an addict. I drink when I'm in deep pain, and it has actually been a while since I've gotten this drunk," she confessed guiltily, avoiding his eyes by using the cool towel to wipe her face.

Rick was interested now, for he knew about the death of Lisa's fiancé and her father, but he wondered if it was more than their deaths that had lead her to the numbing ways of alcohol. He inched closer to the woman, leaning on the arm of the sofa to peer down at those sad and beautiful eyes. "So, you drink because you're in pain? I—I didn't know, Lisa," he said, offering his sympathy toward the broken woman.

Lisa cleared her throat and closed her eyes for fear of them spilling over. Having him here, this close and with that look of understanding, only caused her more pain, as she knew no matter how much she wanted him to reach out to her, he would always return to Minmei. That thought made her already broken heart cringe and when she felt a hand on her leg she gasped and jerked.

"It's okay Lisa. I understand. I understand more than you know. When my father died, I was really young, but not too young to steal my his liquor. I had a problem and only when Roy taught me how to fly did I finally stop," he confessed, his eyes glazing over as if he was looking into the past, a faint sad smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, "And even now, with Roy gone—I won't lie, I've crept back to drinking when I can't think about anything but him," he trailed off, his eyes shiny with the gleam of tears before he closed them completely.

Lisa scooted up and reached out her hand to his arm as if to reassure him. She had no idea he struggled with alcohol abuse as well, and felt guilty for not noticing his own pain and loss. He shook his head and wiped his eyes with his sleeve, hiding his tears from her. "Rick, please. Look at me," she cooed, hoping to distract him from his own personal agony. He cleared his throat and his red eyes met her face. He saw comfort there and moved closer to her, feeling her presence as a safety blanket. They were now sitting side by side and facing each other. Lisa felt her heart beating in her throat and she wanted nothing more than to hold him close. "You must not let yourself become like me, drinking to numb pain and shutting everyone out. I can't bring back those I loved, and neither can you. But we are better than this. Roy wouldn't want to see his little brother a drunk loser like me. You are young Rick, and have so much going for you," Lisa said, her voice uneven and solemn as she peered into his sad eyes, finding rebellion there.

"You're not a drunk loser, Lisa. I'm sorry I was mean earlier. You are such a strong person and it amazes me that you've been through so much and manage to keep it so together. And don't act like I'm that young kid you met years ago. I may be twenty-three now, a Captain of my own squadron even, but that doesn't mean I have much going for me. I have no one left now, but Max. Minmei is still such a child and she cares about me when it's convenient to her. My love for her was only that. Mine. Not hers," Rick revealed his own heart withering in his ribcage.

Lisa gulped and closed her eyes. Rick really did love Minmei, but Miss Macross never actually loved him back. She felt a mixture of emotions toward his confession: jealousy, thrill, happiness, empathy, but she knew not which she should reveal. Anxious to fill in the awkward silence, she grabbed his hand in hers and tightened her grip. He looked up at her in surprise, confusion in his dark eyes that were now searching for answer that he had neglected to ask.

After a few moments too long, he cleared his throat and backed away, regrettably letting go of her hand and stood up. "So, I guess you're okay, then? I should be going, my place is a few miles from here so if I don't leave soon I—"he stuttered, scratching his unruly head of hair before being interrupted by a nervous Lisa who shot up and reached out to him, withdrawing her outreached arms in embarrassment. Rick actually thought it was cute how dorky Lisa was being, then questioned why 'cute' and 'Lisa' were used in the same thought.

"Wait, Rick—uh, you can stay here tonight with me," she blurted, then stuttered, "well not with me, but here on my couch. It pulls out into a bed, and I have extra blankets in my room," she managed, hoping she didn't sound erratic and nervous. Boy, if Claudia was here, she'd have quite a laugh.

Rick saw the desperation in her look and wanted nothing more than to comfort her for some weird reason, but knew it was not a brilliant idea. What if his urges kept him up all night. Deciding he would decline he shook his head and voiced his thoughts. "Thanks for the offer Lisa, but I wouldn't want to impose on you. Plus I have an early shift at eight," he let out, noting the sad look on her face. _Maybe I should just take her offer._

"I have to be in Command at the same time. We could go together," she said, hoping she could change his mind, then looked to the floor and mumbled, "And, besides, I don't think I can be alone right now…"

When he heard her sad admission, the decision had been made for him without waiver. "All right, Lisa. I'll stay. Thank you," he said before returning to his seat on the couch, turning to her with a subtle smile. She returned a tired one to him as well, her eyes full of joy, even in her drunk state.

"You're welcome Rick. You're always welcome here. I mean, what kind of a woman would I be to not let the man who saved my life, many times now, to have a place to sleep?" she laughed, her admiration for the pilot was too much to contain. He laughed at her comment and returned it with one of his own.

"Well, what kind of a man would I be to refuse the woman who saved _my_ life, _many times now_, in letting me stink up her couch?" he chuckled, happy to banter with the woman who brought out the worst, and now, best of him. It had been a while since he actually laughed, and now thinking about it, hardly anyone had seen Lisa laugh, and he'd been lucky enough to see it many times now. The lovely expression of happiness did wonders to the gleam of her green eyes and even in the blue tint of the moon; he couldn't deny the beauty that was Lisa Hayes. Why he never really looked at her this way was beyond him, and now that he was, his body responded in a very different manner. His heart skipped a beat while it pumped blood in a downward direction and he found himself liking his superior officer more and more.

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Thanks again for sticking it out with me.

Please review!


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